


The Finest-Looking Apple

by Phindin



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, F/F, Light Bondage, canon-typical angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:23:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phindin/pseuds/Phindin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alternate timeline, beginning roughly five years after Kyouko comes to Mitakihara. Fighting alongside Sayaka, she tests the longevity of her tenure as a magical girl. Their differing lifestyles continue to meet at intimate junctions, and growing up is hard, besides.</p><p>"Father, you of all gods ought to know how little to expect from people. But I think you might be pleasantly surprised—to see what this girl would bring out of me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Wait

**Author's Note:**

> To spare some confusion, the chronological order of the chapters so far is as follows:
> 
> 2 → 3 → 5 → (timeskip) → 1 → 4

Tiny raindrops dusted the screen of Sayaka’s phone. She knew it was pointless to check the time, but part of her was bitterly glad to know how long she’d been waiting. Twenty-eight minutes. Clouds smothered the sky and they were the color of lead. For close to three days the weather had been set to permanent overcast; it had even snowed once overnight, and there were still several scant, dirty patches of white scattered about, though soon enough they would be reduced to slush.

Calling her would be futile, too. The next time Sayaka saw her it would be at two or three in the morning when she came staggering into the apartment, into their bedroom, smelling like smoke and alcohol. Sayaka would pretend to be asleep, so it wasn’t really seeing. Then real sleep wouldn’t come until after Kyouko had passed out, half-naked and oftentimes on top the covers, with one arm draped over her—and usually not until well after.

The timing was random. Kyouko could go weeks without ditching a witch hunt, but rarely more than a month. All-in-all, it was somewhere between five and ten percent, starting a little after Kyouko’s seventeenth birthday. At first she’d just stayed out late. The drinking and smoking started less than half a year later. Sayaka had never actually seen Kyouko doing either, and she never spoke of it. Their burdens were taxing enough, and Sayaka had never heard of two magic girls lasting for as long as they had. It was special. She hated the habits, and her younger self would have spoken up, but she knew now that it was something adults did to cope. Madoka’s mother was a drinker—but also a successful businesswoman and a fine parent.

Tonight, though, was also special, because this was the first time Kyouko hadn’t shown up for two hunts in a row. Typically, Sayaka could handle fighting alone, but last night she’d gotten into a long battle with a particularly tough and crafty witch. It had gotten away, and Sayaka had expended a lot of magical energy. If she encountered the same witch tonight, she could be in trouble—except of course she still needed to defeat it before it killed more people and bolstered its power.

Despite never catching her in the act, she still knew where Kyouko went. For a few weeks she’d gone so far as to pay a man to follow her when she couldn’t, forfeiting a big chunk of her savings. Sayaka had the directions memorized. Unsurprisingly, the route would take her through one of the dicier parts of town, close to where the yakuza were rumored to run cover businesses and gambling parlors.

She took the buss (it was still too early to climb a building and jump from roof to roof without being seen) but still ended up getting stares. Along with a skirt and tights, Sayaka wore a long tweed coat, which was a birthday present from Kyosuke that had arrived early in the mail. He was touring Europe with Hitomi, performing for sellout crowds. When Kyosuke had initially proposed the idea, Hitomi’s parents flatly denied her permission. But she went anyway, stealing out in the middle of the night and sparking some mild drama.

It sounded like a thrilling romantic adventure right out of a manga, but Sayaka wasn’t jealous. Envy was a feeling that no longer had a grip on her. There were countless limits to her ‘life’ (as she referred to it without irony) and it came down to a matter of enjoying what she could. Spending time with Kyouko had helped her with this immensely. Her younger, more bubbly and carefree self had largely been a façade, anyway; and it wasn’t as if she restricted her happiness, she simply allowed it to happen instead of stalking and strangling it with fanciful expectations.

Her requested stop drew a concerned look from the bus driver, and another wave of stares from the older passengers. Sayaka stood and got off without looking up, then found herself on the dark corner of a narrow street lined with three and four story buildings of varying, but largely habitable, disrepair. At ground level most of them had steel doors, wide enough for a truck, that opened vertically. At this time of night, they were all shut tight.

Sayaka knew the address was close, and she found the place within minutes, passing a single man who sat quiet and motionless on the curb with his head hanging between his legs. The building looked much like the others, but it also had a set of narrow stone steps that lead around it, then down towards what had to be a basement. She followed them, then stopped at a metal door. It was rust colored, and had a horizontal slot that opened at eye level. Sayaka felt like she could be the main character on a detective drama, about to do some serious grilling.

She rapped her knuckles on the door, then waited for the slot to slide open. It took about thirty seconds, then it did, and a pair of dark eyes appeared there. A few seconds passed in silence before the man behind the door spoke up.

“You lost?”

“I’m here for Kyouko,” she said.

Sayaka wasn’t sure what kind of sway Kyouko had here—whatever this place was—but the man didn’t question her; the slot closed with a scrape, leaving her to wait. If he never came back, it wouldn’t matter. There was a kind of unwritten code dictating that magical girls weren’t allowed flaunt their powers, but Sayaka wasn’t in the mood to be subtle. They were welcome to try to spread the story of the blue-haired girl in the tweed jacket who kicked their big metal door straight off its hinges.

Eventually Sayaka heard the clunk of a deadbolt, then a creek as the door opened outward. Kyouko appeared in the threshold, giving a nod to someone behind her before stepping out, and the door slammed shut. She wore jeans and a tank top, and stupidly Sayaka’s eyes strayed to the swell of her exposed cleavage before anything else. Kyouko noticed this and smirked, showing Sayaka her teeth. She stuck her hands in her pockets and leaned back against the door.

“Ha, damn, that coat looks nice,” she said. “Really hot on you, even when you’re lookin’ all grumpy. It’s a good thing I never broke that guy’s legs, y’know? Or his arms. Guess he could still play in a wheelchair.”

Sayaka’s expression only hardened. “Are you already drunk?”

Kyouko sniffed, then let out a low chuckle. “You have never seen me drunk.”

“Yeah, I’ve only been there the hundred times you come stumbling home at three in the morning!”

The grin on Kyouko’s face sagged. “Look…”

“Look? Look at what? You, hanging out in this horrible part of town while we’re supposed to be out hunting witches?”

“God… stop yelling, OK? I just needed a break.”

“You had one last night! And there was a witch that almost killed me.”

Kyouko glanced away. “That was somethin’ else.”

“Yeah? Some other place where you go get messed up?”

“Shut up,” Kyouko said. “Just shut up. You have no idea. I can’t be Little Miss Perfect like you. I can’t suck up to some asshole boss and keep two shitty jobs then go fight witches every night. You know I can’t. I gotta do my own thing.”

By now, after all the time they’d spent together, Sayaka knew she was telling the truth. No amount of nagging, or even well-reasoned argument, had convinced Kyouko to take school seriously, or to hold a steady job, or to conform to society’s expectations of young people. It made sense, in a way. Why would someone who could do such amazing things with her magic need to live like a regular person? It was almost enviable.

“What do you do in there?” Sayaka said soberly, after a few seconds.

“Make money,” Kyouko said.

“Gambling?”

“Sure, if you wanna call it that. But it’s not really gambling when you always end up ahead.”

“You win every time, and they still let you come back?”

“Don’t be dumb,” Kyouko said. “The guys that run this place… I do ‘em a favor every now and then, yeah? And it’s not like I’m stealin’ their money—I’m getting it from the other guys that show up, right, so it’s tit for tat.”

“What favors?”

Kyouko shrugged. “Little things, I swear. It’s nothing dangerous.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Aw, aren’t you just the best girlfriend ever, always lookin’ out for me.”

“No being evasive,” Sayaka said. “We have a deal.”

“It’s not hurting anybody. These guys already have the cops paid off, I just make sure nobody else is messin’ with ‘em.”

“Oh yeah? And it’s not dangerous?”

“Not for me.”

Sayaka sighed. “If it’s not breaking your promise, then why have you been hiding it from me?”

“I wasn’t hiding it,” Kyouko said. “You found out, right? Not like it was hard. I just knew it wasn’t your scene… or whatever. There was no reason for you to worry, but I knew you would anyways.” 

Sayaka hesitated. It didn’t seem like she had many options, other than to believe what Kyouko was telling her. It’s true that Sayaka wanted nothing to do with this seedy gambling establishment; she couldn’t exactly waltz inside and question the owners. She could give Kyouko an ultimatum. She could tell her that if this shady business continued, then they couldn’t be together.

She didn’t want to. Maybe it was idiotic, but Kyouko had her trust.

“Is it fun?” Sayaka asked.

Kyouko blinked. “Huh?”

“If you had the chance, wouldn’t you rather do it with me?”

Kyouko folded her arms, giving a light shudder as if she only just noticed that the temperature outside wasn’t appropriate for a sleeveless shirt. “Yeah, I mean, I guess…”

They were back at the apartment in less than hour. Kyouko showed Sayaka a hidden compartment in the closet, where there was a bottle of whisky more than two-thirds full. They took it to the kitchen, and Kyouko hummed to herself as she selected two short glasses from the cupboard. There was ice in the freezer, and she added some to each glass. Kyouko then poured a smaller measure for Sayaka, and close to double the amount for herself.

“ _Kanpai_ ,” she said. “Better not spit it out.”

Kyouko sipped her glass, and Sayaka decided to slurp down the entire contents of hers. It tasted something like syrup mixed with cement, and the weird, burning aftertaste it left in her mouth was unlike anything she’d ever felt. But she kept it down. In fact, she smacked her lips and gave a daring look to Kyouko, who only laughed and refilled her glass.

Not long afterwards in the bedroom they were both laughing, Kyouko nearly doubled over; they were playing the demo of a bizarre new fighting game, and Sayaka had somehow made her ape-like character do a flashy back flip straight off the edge of the stage. The whisky was nearly gone. As punishment for losing, it was Sayaka’s turn for a shot, and Kyouko poured her a generous one with steady hands.

“Nnn… no. You take it. I’m good.”

“You sure? That means you’re the big, fat loser.”

“Uh, aha, I think I am? Did you just… see what I did?”

Kyouko snorted. “Yeah, it was fuckin’ hilarious.”

“Then doooo it. Do it!”

Kyouko took a deep breath, then composed her face in mock preparation. She plucked the glass elegantly from the floor, then held it under her nose, where she delicately swirled the contents.

“To Chimpeo,” she said. “The brave monkey warrior in stylish pants, whose life was, uhm, callously and carelessly cut short by Sayaka Miki. Alas, he was… too good for his cel shaded world. May his pixels rest in peace. With bananas. Amen.”

“Amen,” Sayaka echoed.

Kyouko drained the glass, then set it down. With as much sneakiness as she could likely muster, Sayaka had scooched towards Kyouko, even swiveling slightly on her butt so that she faced her at an angle. Kyouko raised an eyebrow, then Sayaka pounced on her.

“Shit…!”

Kyouko’s back hit the carpet, and she gasped. Sayaka sat on top of her, eyes widening, suddenly looking concerned in the semidarkness. There was only the glow coming from the TV of the colorful character select screen. 

“Sayaka Miki,” Kyouko said in a breathy voice, “claims another victim. Chimpeo… now I, too, will join you in the void…”

She sat up. Now on her lap, Sayaka giggled, gripping her shoulders, and they kissed—sloppy at first, but Kyouko took the lead, and it was almost as if she guided Sayaka with her tongue, softly, and when their lips broke Sayaka exhaled at a pitch that drove Kyouko’s mouth to her skin, her neck to her collar bone where she knew she liked it, her cheek grazing against the starched fabric of Sayaka’s shirt.

“Buttons…” Sayaka whispered, almost like the word was a curse.

“Watch this.” 

Kyouko undid each of them with deft fingers, taking no time at all, and Sayaka slid out of the sleeves before yanking Kyouko’s tank top off over her head. Their bras were undone in less time, and Sayaka’s mouth fell hastily to Kyouko’s breasts. A _phew_ noise passed Kyouko’s lips, and she leaned back onto the foot of the bed, palms rubbing Sayaka’s shoulders and back and forearms.

Eventually Sayaka stood, and with every part of her below the stomach framed by the TV, her skirt fell, and she stepped unsteadily out of her panties. Kyouko sat back on the bed, undoing her jeans, and Sayaka helped pull them off. Then she was on top of Kyouko again, the weight pressing her body against the comforter, light fingertips easing down her stomach, and Kyouko found a warm, sturdy part of Sayaka for each hand. She steadied herself. She kissed her, returning what she could of the hot, trembling pleasure that came rippling from where Sayaka touched her.

She came quickly in the heat of it all, body clamped against Sayaka’s, greedy and briefly rigid, as if clutching her hard enough would prolong the feeling. They kissed again while the orgasm faded, then Sayaka flopped down over her, planting her face into Kyouko’s shoulder.

“M’tired,” Sayaka said, her voice quiet and muffled. “You actually smell good…”

“Yeah?”

Sayaka nuzzled her, then shifted her body a little.

“You still gotta get up,” Kyouko said, after a moment. “Your butt is gonna get cold.”

“Mmnn… fight me.”

“Wrong thing to say.” Kyouko’s voice adopted a playful edge. “You better take it back.”

“No way.”

“Last chance.”

“Bring it… Pocky Breath,” said Sayaka, not budging.

“Alright.”

Kyouko was strong, but Sayaka’s bigger body was like an anchor that needed dislodging. She kissed Sayaka’s neck again, then rubbed her whole body against hers, utilizing what little space she had to maneuver. Soon, as she responded to Kyouko’s grinding, some of Sayaka’s weight’s eased off of her; quick as a blur, Kyouko seized Sayaka’s sides and flipped her onto her back. The half roll had taken them almost off the side of the bed, but that didn’t keep Sayaka from squirming, showing some renewed verve now that Kyouko had turned the tables.

It was to no avail. Kyouko sat back a bit, using her lower body to pin Sayaka’s legs at the thigh. She admired Sayaka’s body in the semidarkness, her chest and her arms; the latter were long and toned like a swimmer’s. It was those arms that Kyouko fended off, grinning as she tried to snare each of them by the wrist. The ribbon in her hair had come undone some time ago, giving her a wild, menacing look, the spilling red locks hanging over Sayaka’s torso with the ends nearly touching her skin.

Eventually Sayaka gave in, her bare chest heaving while Kyouko kept each of her arms glued to the bedspread.

“That was fun,” Kyouko said.

“Whatever… you can let go.”

“I dunno. You might start squirming again.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Sayaka said.

There was something funny about how the words came out—something that got Kyouko’s heart pounding even harder than it had been. She almost couldn’t keep looking down at Sayaka as a light blush crept onto to her face. It felt hotter than normal, almost like a prickly itch.

“Let me try something.”

Kyouko’s eyes flicked up to the headboard. It was wood with a flat, simple design. The center section of it sloped up on both sides to form a dome shape. She slowly scooted Sayaka back along the bed, feeling no resistance. Emboldened, she lifted Sayaka’s arms and held them against the headboard. There was a brief flash of light, and she heard Sayaka gasp. Kyouko’s spear had appeared out of thin air. Divided into its chained segments, it was wrapped snugly around the domed section of the headboard almost like a golden crown, locking Sayaka’s hands in place. Kyouko tested the chains, tugging at them a little.

“Think you’re going anywhere?” she asked.

Sayaka shook her head, so Kyouko sat up, taking her time while she considered where to start. Top to bottom was obvious, but she did it anyway, kissing Sayaka on the mouth, then moving to her collar bones again before lingering on her breasts—not that she could help but linger. Simply having Sayaka’s entire body at her mercy turned her on, and to not savor the moment would be a crime, even as the noises coming from the other girl gained a shrill, desperate quality.

Now Kyouko didn’t need to feel her to know how wet Sayaka was; she was achingly horny herself, but fair was fair. She went down on Sayaka, gripping each of her legs and holding them apart. More intimately than ever, she could feel Sayaka’s body shift in reaction to her tongue, could sense the tiny spasms and the intermittent seizing of her muscles. After Sayaka came for the first time, Kyouko joined her on the bed. She slid her own legs between Sayaka’s and rubbed against her, using her fingers, too, steadily building herself into another climax. Forced to pull back, she sucked down a few breaths and offered a throaty apology before redoubling the effort with her fingers. It didn’t take her long to make up the ground.

Still, it wasn’t until some time later—while Sayaka slept, and she smoked half a cigarette outside on the balcony—that Kyouko considered whether she deserved something so good, and what she could do to make sure she never lost it.


	2. The Weather

“Shit.”

This rain really had come out nowhere—although, frankly, when was the last time Kyouko had paid specific attention to the weather? Probably some time when she still had living, breathing family.

It didn’t matter, anyway. Kyouko wasn’t the type of girl who could stay cooped up in a hotel room all day, regardless of what the weather looked like. Problem was, she wanted out, but she also had no interest in interacting with any human beings. That pretty much ruled out the arcade, but she was getting bored of that place, anyway. It was still light out, too, which meant she couldn’t have much fun with her powers, either. So where?

Kyouko knew a place where no one was likely to go during a storm. She didn’t know exactly where it was, but that certainly wasn’t going to stop her. It had to be a bit of a ways, at least, so Kyouko stole a black hooded raincoat and loaded the pockets with snacks. In a different little store, she found a city map and stole that, too.

The distance was manageable on foot, especially since she knew a few shortcuts. Kyouko ran some of the way—spots where she wasn’t likely to, literally, run into anybody. The folks she did see walking about could have been phantoms. The city and its people made for nothing more than a backdrop of dull gray.

And at last, the cemetery. Kyouko stood at the gate, her teeth around a cracker. Her coat was dripping at every crease, but the pouring had let up some. Kyouko pulled down her hood and swallowed. She looked to be alone. The graves dotted a few short hills, shielded from nearby residences by tall trees and a church building. Kyouko did not spare a glance for the latter.

Her family wasn’t buried here; Kazamino had its own graveyard, and it wasn’t as nice as this one. This one was newer: fewer graves, and everything was less worn in. Kyouko leaped the gate with ease, and squished down on the other side, her boots sinking slightly into the mud below the grass. She took a path up the closest hill, which was central and taller than the rest.

“Shit…”

Kyouko had a view now, and could see plainly that she wasn’t alone after all. The hill to the east was squatter, and there, standing among the graves, was Sayaka Miki. She was in her school uniform. If she’d brought an umbrella, it was nowhere to be seen. The way she stood—so still—made her look like a decoration.

The smartest thing to do would be to leave—but then, Kyouko had never learned when to keep well enough alone. Still following the path, she descended slowly. Soon enough, Kyouko was close to the point that Sayaka had to have noticed her. It took a few seconds. Eventually, Sayaka turned, and a cold shiver ran the length of Kyouko’s body, up and down.

“What?” Sayaka said. Her voice sounded dry and dead.

“Uh… nothin’.”

Sayaka took a stiff step towards her. “Were you following me?”

“Wh…?” Kyouko almost stepped back in response. “No way—”

“Why else would you be here?” She paused. “You want to rub it in.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

For the first time, Sayaka appeared to register at least part of what Kyouko was saying. The look in her eyes became harsh and critical, as if Kyouko was being appraised for the semblance of anything valuable or good.

“Mami,” Sayaka said slowly, “was the kind of girl… the kind of magical girl that you hated. That you made fun of. She’s gone now, so…”

 _Mami_.

“She…?”

“Yesterday. Yesterday, in a labyrinth. It was the longest fight I’d ever seen. She had to use all of her magic to save us. Me and Madoka…”

“Th-then—”

“Shut up.” Sayaka stepped closer to Kyouko with the bloodless face of a cadaver. “You want to know what happened next?”

She waited a few seconds and the other girl offered no answer.

“Mami… turned into a witch.”

Kyouko had nothing to say to this. Any hot emotional response she had was blazing out somewhere in another universe. What remained was numb and cold.

“Stop…”

Sayaka shook her head. “Don’t you get it? It was a sick little joke all along. Mami, me, you… we’re the punch lines. And, you know… there’s only one way it can end.”

There was a flash of light. Sayaka had transformed and summoned a cutlass. First she aimed at her own neck… then lower, towards her Soul Gem.

“Stop it!”

Before she even knew what she was doing, Kyouko had also transformed. With a quick thrust, her spear sent the sword sailing out of Sayaka’s hand.

Sayaka’s head jerked, and her eyes narrowed. “What are you doing?”

“Stopping you.”

Sayaka summoned another sword. “You would… you _would_ do something like that! Would I lie about something…? _Ngh_. You’re going. To Turn into. A witch! That’s all we are! Witches waiting to hatch, waiting to torture and kill people! How could you want to keep living after knowing something like that?!”

“Seriously?!” With a flick of Kyouko’s arm, the second sword went flying.

Sayaka set her teeth. Another cutlass, this time aimed at…

“You—!”

“Yeah,” Kyouko cut in. “I’m a big, selfish asshole, remember?!” 

She parried Sayaka’s attack, then grabbed her by the front of her outfit and took her to the ground. From there, she pinned her arms and sat on her stomach. Sayaka glared up at Kyouko with disgust.

“I hate you.”

Kyouko leaned low so that their faces were only inches away. She used her best bitter, arrogant, mocking voice.

“If you can’t beat me in a fight,” she said, “what makes you think I can’t keep you from killing yourself?”

“Get _off_.”

“Really,” Kyouko went on, “if you wanted to do the job right, you should have gone after me first. Like you just said… we’re the same. I’m just a witch waiting to be born, too. So what are you gonna do about it, hero?!”

“Shut up!”

Sayaka ripped one of her arms free, then planted her palm right into Kyouko’s throat, shoving her back. She quickly rose, and a cutlass appeared in each of her hands. Kyouko rolled to her feet and held out her spear.

“That’s right, there you go,” she taunted. “If you lose and you die, it’s just the same as what you were gonna do anyways. This way, at least, you don’t come off like a total coward.”

Sayaka screamed and charged, and after a few steps, she threw one of her swords. Kyouko leaped to avoid it, arcing over Sayaka. Sharply, Sayaka pivoted and pulled more swords from thin air, letting them fly like a barrage. Kyouko spun her spear, deflecting them.

All but one. Kyouko grimaced as soon as she landed. Her leg… 

No time to be distracted. More flying swords were coming. Kyouko maneuvered around them and met Sayaka’s next charge. She didn’t remember it being this hard to keep up with the flash of her blade. Her leg was slowing her down, and she wasn’t going to have the chance to heal until this was over. Sayaka offered her no openings.

And then it happened, and both of them were shocked briefly into stillness. With one blow, Sayaka had broken Kyouko’s grip. In the next second, her spear lay useless in the mud, and Sayaka’s sword had found its mark. The blade was four inches deep in Kyouko’s chest, near her shoulder.

“Ah,” Kyouko said.

She fell back just as Sayaka slid the blade out.

Kyouko only had time to wonder what she’d been thinking. She’d been too casual during the fight. Let her guard down. Let herself end up like this, somehow. Sayaka stood above her.

What a shitty life she’d had.

Still, she felt little drops continue to fall on her skin. The moment went on, dreamlike. Kyouko closed her eyes. She didn’t care anymore.

She opened them again when she heard a sob. Sayaka wasn’t standing in the same spot—in fact, she wasn’t standing at all. At least, Kyouko couldn’t see her. Was she on the ground? She had to be close, because…

“I can’t…”

More sobbing. Kyouko tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. The pain was too much… and she felt almost entirely out of strength, besides.

In a haze, Kyouko lost consciousness, then regained it. She hadn’t moved. The feeling of the rain was back, and the pain had dulled tremendously. For the first time, she thought about how wet and muddy her whole body was.

Sayaka was gone, and so was the hole in Kyouko’s chest.

“Idiot…”

Kyouko sighed. She spread out her arms and legs a little and opened her mouth to taste the rain.


	3. The Barrier

For days, Kyouko couldn’t find her. When the missing posters went up, she couldn’t help but fear the worst—that Sayaka had gone through with killing herself, maybe even inside a witch’s labyrinth where her body would never be found. Gray clouds and intermittent rain kept the city wrapped in a gloomy cocoon. Local news was dreary, too. Multiple suicides, gang violence, triple murders—Kyouko was exterminating witches enough only to sustain her magic, leaving the rest to wreak havoc.

Searching for Sayaka took up most of her time, and the effort had become strangely tiring. There were over 120 million people in Japan, and with her powers, Sayaka could be anywhere in the country—maybe anywhere in the world. Asking around was pointless; her detective work wasn’t going to be any better than the police’s. Her only advantage was her magic, but when Kyouko used her Soul Gem to track nearby fluxes, the source was always either a witch or a familiar.

Kyouko could not sleep well. She thought about Mami too much; she thought about how maybe, if she’d been stronger after losing her family, she could have continued to fight alongside her and then protected her from becoming a witch. Sayaka wouldn’t have become involved, since Mami wouldn’t have needed a new apprentice. Kyouko could have saved both of them.

And then, the graveyard. She could have saved Sayaka there, too, if she’d been thinking straight. The dead look in Sayaka’s eyes, the way she’d been talking… it caused her to panic. Instead of just egging her on, Kyouko could have kept her cool and tried to be reasonable. If it came to a fight, she could have incapacitated Sayaka without killing her. Kyouko should have been able to handle her easily.

These types of regrets had never weighed on her like this—not since she’d become a magical girl. Now there was no getting them out of her.

Playing at the arcade wasn’t fun anymore, but it provided a distraction from the regrets. Some hotshot had broken her record on the retro shooter she really liked—one of the first arcade games she’d mastered. It was getting late in the afternoon, and the place was nearly empty. Kyouko played for about an hour, her lip slowly curling down into a scowl as she died and died again, not getting even close to the kind of progress she needed to compete for the score. Damn if she wasn’t rusty. Damn if she also didn’t give two fucking shits about any of this—

“Sakura… san?”

The soft voice came from behind Kyouko, and the plastic gun became slack in her hand. The level one alien boss drained her health without resistance as she stood there and stared at nothing. Then the screen went black after her game over, and the nothing became her own reflection. Kyouko’s hand trembled; she tightened it around the plastic gun and returned it to the black holster below the player one button.

She turned to face Madoka Kaname, and felt a lump in her throat. Madoka looked tired and sad, in that order. Kyouko clearly wasn’t the only one losing sleep. She could picture Madoka putting on a brave face during the day, but keeping herself up late, sobbing, buried in her blankets.

Kyouko took a few steps towards Madoka, looking down at the dirty carpet.

“Um,” Madoka said.

Kyouko looked up, pressing her lips together, trying not to look like a sad sack.

“I’ve… been looking for you,” Madoka went on, also glancing down.

“You…?” Kyouko trailed off and felt a rotten twist in her stomach.

“I’m s-sorry. I’m sorr—”

“No.” Kyouko cut her off. “N-no, it’s fine. I… I shoulda been looking for you. I’m a real idiot for not finding you first.”

Madoka didn’t answer immediately. Kyouko wanted to give her a hug.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re still here,” Madoka said, eventually. “I know it doesn’t have anything to do with you. I know you and Sayaka got into fights, and they were getting bad. I know you think that maybe… maybe she’s weak, and that sh-she doesn’t understand anything about being a magical girl, or anything about how to help people, b-but…”

Tears were budding in Madoka’s eyes, and Kyouko did hug her. Madoka cried quietly for just a few seconds.

“I’ve been looking for her,” Kyouko said.

“…Mm.”

“I don’t think she’s gone.”

A minute passed, and Kyouko dropped her arms to give Madoka some space. Madoka’s face was swollen red, but she was looking more determined.

“I don’t think she’s gone,” Kyouko repeated, “but I have no idea where she is.” She swallowed. “Er… do you…?”

Slowly, Madoka nodded. She dabbed at her wet eyes and set her jaw.

“It might not help at all,” she said. “But… but I was…” She closed her eyes for a second. “I’m sorry. Sakura-san… it’s hard, but I… I can take you to where the b-barrier was, where Mami-san and Sayaka were…”

“You don’t have to say anything else, ‘cause that’s all I need.” Kyouko made a face. “God, you never shoulda had to be caught up in this at all.”

“It was my choice. But, I just… I just want to help Sayaka now. I don’t care about anything else.”

Kyouko raised her eyebrows. “You’re two peas in a pod.”

“Hm?”

“Never mind. Let’s blow this place.”

 

Kyouko sent Madoka off once they found the barrier. It took some convincing, but Kyouko wasn’t about to make the same mistake that Mami and Sayaka had. Whatever moral support Madoka offered was canceled out several times over by the risk. Kyouko had failed to protect everybody important to her up to this point, so why add an innocent girl to the headcount?

Anyway, really: this was between her and Mami. A final sad score to settle.

“Sorry,” Kyouko murmured as she passed through the barrier. “For waiting this long. For being a coward, and for being weak.”

The labyrinth opened to yellow rolling hills—yellow like rotten teeth. Kyouko frowned; there were dozens of tall apple trees, branches sagging under the weight of fat, ripe apples in all colors. A massive swirling cloud, black as pitch, floated far off in the sky. It appeared to be expanding, or at least moving closer. A deep crimson river rushed between the hills, and human-sized teacups floated along it like logs.

The apples in the trees began to wriggle, which spurred Kyouko to get moving. She darted between the trees, though before she got too far, insectoid familiars began to burst from the fruit. They looked like small golden wasps, though in place of stingers they had gleaming, old-fashioned rifle barrels, outfitted with bayonets. They fired at her, and Kyouko warded off the first volley with her spear.

These things were going to be a problem if they followed her—which meant she needed to kill them all. Some of the deflected shots had already taken down a few, so she could probably handle them. Kyouko swept behind one of the trees as another volley came. Then she leaped into the fray; each way she looked there was a target, and she took them all down, charging, slashing, dodging behind the next tree. The hail of friendly fire damage helped, too.

Kyouko darted about, chopping down the trees, killing more of the familiars and stirring the entire nest. Soon the barrage became overwhelming. More and more familiars hatched from apples, more than she could kill, and Kyouko retreated for the red river before the swarm could surround her. They pursued her, as expected, so without hesitation she dove into the swift current.

She underestimated just _how_ swift—and strong. The “water” both looked and tasted like blood, and at its most turbulent, Kyouko didn’t have the strength to fight it. The teacups became her new worst enemy, whirling and eddying wildly, fast enough to take her head off when she came up to breathe. Worn down and practically blind from the blood—and with bullets from the familiars still singing out all around her, pelting the river’s surface—the only thing Kyouko could do was dive deeper and allow the current to sweep her along.

She’d never had to hold her breath for so long. Perhaps it was fitting that she should drown in a river of blood, but it was a fate Kyouko refused to accept. She owed Mami that much. She kicked and ripped at the blood with her arms, screaming into her own brain, trying to will herself up. The mad rush of the river kept her pinned and submerged.

Until it sent her flying. Kyouko sputtered and gasped at the air. She was falling now, down towards what appeared to be a boiling pot well over twice the size of an Olympic pool; the river of blood was emptying into it like a waterfall. Kyouko had only a few seconds to save herself. She used the full length of her spear, digging it into the cliff face under the falls, then retracting it in order to pull herself to a tiny ledge. The face was rough enough to climb down, and Kyouko wasted no time. Who knew if, or when, the familiars would catch up with her.

Battered and drenched in blood, Kyouko had reached what was likely the final chamber. Once she’d climbed low enough, Kyouko spotted exactly what she’d come for: Sayaka’s body, tied to a chair on a raised platform just beyond the boiling pot; and the witch born from Mami’s soul—Candeloro—hanging elegantly from a swaying chandelier, dangling by golden ribbons. Strange voices echoed around the chamber, whispering and excited.

Kyouko needed to move before the familiars caught up with her. She narrowed her eyes and vaulted her way across the giant boiling pot, jumping from teacup to teacup. The raised platform—though now that she was closer, it looked like a giant coffee table—stood just ahead. Kyouko reached it with a tremendous leap, causing her to hit the surface of the table hard and take a tumble. Candeloro squealed, then laughed. From the surface of the cavernous walls that surrounded the “kitchen” there appeared dozens of cannons, each swiveling to target her.

Sayaka’s body was close. With her spear, Kyouko quickly cut her free. Then the cannons fired; Kyouko grabbed Sayaka’s body and darted out of the way. This provoked Candeloro herself, who shrieked and sent a wave of ribbons towards Kyouko like a shimmering, undulating cascade. If Kyouko let herself get wrapped up, get caught, then it was over; she’d end up just be like Sayaka—a lifeless body trapped here until another magical girl came along. Candeloro was clearly a lonely witch, just as Mami had been a lonely girl.

If only it hadn’t taken until now for Kyouko to realize it. If only she’d just stayed—stayed by Mami’s side, so at least, if something like this were to happen…

Kyouko weaved between the attacks, one after another, slicing apart each strand of ribbon that came for her and dodging between the cannon blasts. From behind her, there came another barrage of gunfire. The wasp familiars had tracked her down, and were soaring in to join the bedlam from above the waterfall. While she was mid-air, a ribbon began to snake around Kyouko’s leg, and she cut herself free. There was another heading for her neck. She hacked at it. As soon as she landed, a cannonball exploded almost directly on top of her, sending her reeling and skidding along the surface of the table, back towards the boiling pot.

“Dammit…”

She wasn’t getting out of here alive. And the more Kyouko fought—the harder she fought, the more ragged her limbs and chest and lungs felt as she charged on, cutting her way towards Candeloro—the more her life felt like it was slipping away for good. And again, the longer it went, the more she began to think that perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad, being entombed here, resting someplace where at least she wouldn’t be alone.

“Mami!”

After Candeloro rebuffed her latest charge, Kyouko stood, then dropped to one knee. Her own blood was dripping into her eyes from a gash on her forehead. She felt sick and lightheaded. Obviously she wasn’t going to be able to lay Mami’s soul to rest this way. Kyouko had one option left—one last attack, and she was more than ready to use it. They’d all suffered enough.

_You hypocrite._

Now she was hearing things.

_I thought you were supposed to be tough._

Kyouko shook her head.

_What was the point of saving me if you were just going to do something like this? Don’t you want to live, too?_

“I didn’t save you…”

_Maybe you did. So just leave this one to me, OK? Mami was my teacher, too._

Kyouko fell to both knees. She’d waited too long, and she was out of strength. She couldn’t use her attack anymore.

_It’s OK. I’ll protect you. And I’ll keep protecting everyone._

Kyouko’s eyes closed. This voice that sounded like Sayaka’s… she was imagining it, but at least it was a good impersonation. Good enough that Kyouko gave in to its demands—though it wasn’t as if she had much of a choice. She couldn’t fight any longer.

The pain was leaving her body. If this was dying, Kyouko thought, then it wasn’t the worst. Like drifting into a warm, tranquil sleep.

 

She woke to the smell of wet grass, and the sound of the rain. Kyouko could barely see. Her head was resting on somebody’s warm lap, and while her body throbbed up and down with a dull ache, she felt very much alive. 

Alive as a magical girl could feel, anyway.

As her eyes adjusted, Kyouko could make out dripping branches above them, keeping the rain off.

“You’re awake.”

The voice belonged to Sayaka. So did the lap.

“Just rest if you want,” Sayaka said. Her voice was very soft.

Kyouko did want to rest. She shut her eyes—not because she didn’t want to see Sayaka, but because her thoughts were going to get away from her. One thing at a time.

“You were alive in there?” she asked, eventually.

“Yeah.” Sayaka paused. “I didn’t know how long I was in there until I checked my phone outside the barrier, but it was almost two days. That witch… Mami’s witch… it didn’t just want to kill me like the ones we normally fight. You saw what happened to me instead. Once you cut me free, though, I could use my magic again. And so while you had her distracted…”

Neither of them spoke for a moment. Each gave a silent prayer to Mami.

“I had a long time to think about becoming a witch,” Sayaka said. “Inside the barrier. I couldn’t think about anything else, almost, and it was basically torturing me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sayaka shook her head. “I kept thinking about it, OK? What else could I do? I thought about all the things that went wrong, and I thought about when we fought in the churchyard, and about how mad I got at you. How selfish you were. And I thought, finally… that I was being selfish, too. That I made a wish and got what I wanted. It’s like…” She hesitated, grasping for the right words. “It’s like I had nothing. Worse, worse than nothing—that I _deserved_ to die. Sitting trapped in that chair in the labyrinth, pitying myself… that was nothing, too.

“But what I wanted all along wasn’t to live for myself. I remember thinking that exact thing. Maybe the price I paid wasn’t fair, and maybe I was the universe’s biggest sucker, but I knew if I got out of there, I still had power. I had the power to protect people in the short term, at least. I could protect the city I grew up in, and my friends who were still alive. Maybe I could even protect other girls from Kyuubey like that stupid snooty transfer student. I thought, if I could save just one other girl from having to go through this…”

With a tiny grunt, Kyouko sat up. Sayaka was crying, tears falling freely, and Kyouko put her arms around her.

“You sound like Sayaka again.” Kyouko was crying now, too. Her hair was getting in her eyes, and she wasn’t thinking much about what she was saying. “Idiot…”

“Don’t call me that.” Sayaka’s voice was muffled.

“You’re an idiot for saving me. Twice. So I’m glad you are.”

“Great…” The word came out like a sigh.

It was a sarcastic response that Kyouko understood. Whatever things were, they weren’t great.

The rain began to fall harder, and the two of them sat closer in towards the trunk. There were things Kyouko wanted to ask Sayaka. A lot of things she wanted to talk about with her. But what was comfortable, what felt right, was to leave all of it be for now.

Besides, Kyouko felt like she might pass out again at any second. She was exhausted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name, general motif, and imagery associated with Mami's witch are from the PSP game. I haven't played it, so other similarities are coincidental.


	4. Fight

Sayaka understood the stigma behind drinking alone. It was for useless drunks and depressed office workers down on their luck—something you didn’t do if you had your life together. Still, she was growing more and more sympathetic towards the drunks and struggling businessmen. When Sayaka indulged, after she reached a certain point, she felt the most removed from her dark fate and her soulless body. That this feeling might be addictive, and dangerous, didn’t occur to her.

The way her work schedule clashed with Kyouko’s did Sayaka no favors. She avoided taking night shifts to give them more flexibility to hunt witches. Kyouko’s work was almost always at night, but her hours were sporadic. It took Kyouko only a couple nights out to match or surpass what Sayaka made in a week working more than full time. That annoyed her a little, but she knew that she couldn’t do what Kyouko did. Even if she had the power to, the environment didn’t suit her; she didn’t want to be around people like that, anyway. She didn’t want to know what was going on behind closed doors in the seediest parts of town. The gritty details from the stories Kyouko told her were more than enough to satiate all of her curiosity.

They had a night off from witch-hunting. Their total count of grief seeds sat at fifteen; with how efficient the two of them were now at collecting them, years had passed since their stock had fallen below five. Regardless, Sayaka kept their hunting schedule strict. It wouldn’t do for them to get overconfident. They’d survived up until now, but the system was still rigged against them. The grief seeds were their lifeline, and the lifeline of all magical girls. They could be stolen or quickly used up. The truth was, though, that the issue gave Sayaka less and less anxiety as the days passed.

She almost always carried a few on her person, and Kyouko did the same. It gave Sayaka both mental and physical protection.

The fighting game she and Kyouko played on the first night they’d drank together had grown into a global phenomenon. Despite its violent nature, the cute, colorful animal characters were a big hit. Kyouko had climbed high on the competitive ladder, and Sayaka herself was quite good, if only through sheer amount of practice. Her best character was Tux, a spear-fighting penguin native to Antarctica. Chimpeo, as it turned out, was one of the weaker, more unreliable characters. He was due for a buff.

Sayaka felt better about drinking alone when she played _Animalia Brawl_ online. Each fight took five minutes or so, with a few more minutes in between for the matchmaking. She lost about every one in five. A loss meant a drink, just like it had the first time she and Kyouko played. Tonight, Sayaka was distracted and sloppy. She was blowing the tougher combos that she could normally nail and losing points in bunches. And she was drinking more than usual.

She couldn’t help it. There was a kind of masochistic element to it, losing again and again, tossing back shot after shot while she waited for Kyouko to return. Her fingers tingled and so did her face. She didn’t care about the points—she could always get them back playing sober, or if she wanted to cheat and have Kyouko use her account. The anticipation was as sweet as it was painful. Her next match was against someone two-hundred points higher on the ladder. Sayaka’s won the first round without taking a hit, ending it in eighteen seconds, and her heart pounded fast between her ears.

She heard a sound on the balcony—or _thought_ she heard a sound. The next round was loading, and when Sayaka turned to look, nobody was there. No Kyouko. She muted the TV and started round two. The lack of volume made it harder; some of the special moves had audio cues, and Sayaka lost the round badly. Despite all of the alcohol, her senses felt heightened. During the next loading screen, she heard it again. A _thump_ this time. Then a light _clink_ , like the sound of a chain.

Sayaka set the controller down and stood. Let her opponent think that she disconnected, she didn’t care. She crossed the room in the dark, stepping softly, making her way towards the sliding glass door that lead to the balcony. When she reached for the door handle, a glowing red barrier appeared, illuminating her fingertips and barring the way. She heard a giggle. Sayaka whipped back around, and there was Kyouko, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the controller in her hands. On the screen, Tux was flipping and flapping about, and skewering Sayaka’s opponent with no mercy.

“Give that back,” Sayaka said.

“Who, me?” Kyouko looked over her shoulder, briefly. “Do I know you?”

Sayaka narrowed her eyes, took a few steps back towards the TV, and almost hit her knee on the corner of the bed. Skirting it, another barrier appeared suddenly to stop her in her tracks. She let out a low noise and, surprising herself with her dexterity, she rolled across the width of the bed, planted her feet on the floor, and dove for Kyouko before she could be impeded again.

Sayaka missed. Kyouko wasn’t in front of the TV anymore, and Sayaka hit the floor on her stomach. _Victory!!_ flashed on the screen.

“Oof.”

She felt Kyouko’s full weight on her back. She felt Kyouko’s breath on her neck, too, and she felt firm hands pulling her sweater up. She felt fingers at her bra strap. She felt Kyouko bite down on her ear. She heard Kyouko’s taunting whisper.

“You’re so weak.”

Sayaka had never done it before—never used her magic outside of a situation where she’d absolutely needed it. Now? This felt no different. She needed it now. There was a flash, and she transformed. Kyouko planted a forearm into her back, but Sayaka bucked her off. Strength surged through her. Sayaka stood up and faced Kyouko, who held herself with casual menace. Smiling like a villain, she also transformed. Then she raised her hand, and a cubic barrier of red surrounded the interior of the room, making everything around them, save the bed, protected and inaccessible.

There was another _clink_ as Kyouko brandished her spear, holding it in two pieces so the chain that connected the segments glinted in the limited light. Sayaka drew a cutlass.

“Don’t scream,” Kyouko said.

“Don’t cry.”

Sayaka took her stance. Kyouko gave it a critical look, then shook her head. She’d seen Sayaka’s near-empty bottle. She was going to underestimate her, just like Tux’s last opponent had. Kyouko used the bedframe as a springboard, leaped at her, and Sayaka read her trajectory. A second cutlass appeared in her off hand, meeting the incoming chain. Sayaka slashed up and across with the first sword, precision so fine that it had to be magic. Cut at a clean right angle, part of Kyouko’s top fell away, revealing both breasts with her soul gem shining between them. Kyouko growled and kicked Sayaka in the stomach, forcing her back to the barrier.

Now with space, her spear coiled out and wrapped around Sayaka’s ankles. Kyouko jerked her weapon up, then thrust the spearhead forward so that it drove into the glowing barrier and held there. Now Sayaka was hanging upside down by her feet. The top of her head was barely off of the floor. She scowled and swung at the air with her two swords while Kyouko kept her distance, admiring her handiwork.

“You’re cheating.”

“Hm? I coulda sworn,” Kyouko said, “that you like being tied up.”

“You’re not getting any closer.”

“Yeah, that’d be a problem.”

Kyouko stepped a bit closer, and Sayaka swung at her again, the tip of her cutlass just out of reach. Kyouko hopped forward, then hopped back, baiting her strikes. It was hard for Sayaka to enjoy the free view of Kyouko’s chest and stomach while she was suspended like this—and that was probably the point. If Kyouko was just planning to tire her out, though, it was going to take her all night.

“Whoops.”

In the middle of one of her wild slashes, Kyouko’s spear disappeared. Sayaka let out a little cry and fell to the floor in a heap. She scrambled for her swords, but Kyouko stepped on the flat blade of the first, then she kicked the second away. Kyouko then shoved Sayaka back, pressing and scrunching her body against the barrier. Her knees pressed Sayaka’s thighs down hard to the floor. Her skin was hot. Sayaka squirmed as Kyouko’s strong hands clasped around her wrists, as Kyouko’s mouth helped itself to Sayaka’s neck.

Sayaka knew what was coming next, but she couldn’t stop it. She had no angle. Her head was in a warm, cloudy buzz. There again was the _clink_ of Kyouko’s spear as it rematerialized, as its chain wound around her wrists, stringing her arms diagonally above her head. She tugged down Sayaka’s top, playfully, so that her nipples were just peeking out. She hummed and she helped herself to Sayaka’s whisky, removing the twist-off top with her teeth. Kyouko took a long pull, in no rush. Sayaka wasn’t going anywhere and they both knew it.

The cutlass Kyouko had kicked away was still in the corner of the room. Taking the whisky with her, Kyouko picked the sword up and examined its length. Sayaka glared up at her and magicked the blade away. Obviously, Kyouko wanted payback for cutting up her outfit, but Sayaka wasn’t going to let her have it—not with her own weapon, anyway. Kyouko frowned, then shrugged. She knelt in front of Sayaka, set the whisky aside, and grasped Sayaka’s top with both hands. With a grunt, she pulled hard and tore it open all the way down the middle. Kyouko cupped her right breast and used her thumb to rub circles around her nipple. Sayaka closed her eyes and set her head back.

In a few seconds, the warmth and pressure of Kyouko’s hand disappeared. Sayaka felt no other touch for a moment, and she opened one curious eye. Kyouko had the whisky again, holding it out, and Sayaka opened her mouth. With steady hands, Kyouko fed her some. Then there was a glint in her eye, and she upended the bottle, emptying the rest over Sayaka’s chest. Her body shuddered and her skin tingled as it dripped down. Kyouko dabbed at it with the tip of her tongue. Then she lapped some up like a cat, and sucked on her nipple.

“You wasted it,” Sayaka said.

“You’re right. Shoulda gotten your skirt off first.”

“That’s not what—”

Kyouko kissed Sayaka on the mouth, cutting her off. She reached down with one hand to work on Sayaka’s belt. Kyouko wasn’t very patient, so it was impressive that she’d stuck to the foreplay for this long. After hours of playing video games by herself, Sayaka wasn’t feeling patient, either. With a sigh, she set her head back again, and she felt Kyouko slip off her skirt and panties; the effort was delicate compared to the forced she’d used on her top. Her hands massaged the inside of her thighs, then she lifted them. The whisky on Kyouko’s tongue stung just a bit as she ran it along and inside Sayaka’s lips. She kissed her clit, and Sayaka’s wrists pressed against the chain. An ache of arousal shot up her stomach.

In the same way the pain dulled when she suffered injuries fighting a witch, only in reverse, the sensitivity of Sayaka’s skin grew intensely when she was at Kyouko’s mercy. When her body jerked in reaction to the pleasure, it felt like she had no control over it. She certainly couldn’t control when she was about to come, and now, a helpless orgasm was already so fast approaching. And Kyouko could sense it. She glanced up towards Sayaka’s face with wide, curious eyes, asking: “now?”

Sayaka nodded. She didn’t want to be greedy, but she also didn’t want the surging pleasure to deescalate even a little bit. Still, if Kyouko wanted to deny her, then there was nothing Sayaka could do. That possibility, that Kyouko could tease her or toy with her—the tension—made these moments all the better. Kyouko had knack for keeping her on the cusp of euphoria for just long enough.

This was some of her finest work. Sayaka shook her head back and forth, like someone desperate for air. She pulled so hard against the chain that she thought it might give. Kyouko buried her lips and her tongue deeper. Sayaka felt the light brush of her teeth, and she cried out with a shrill pitch. When Kyouko returned to her swelling clit, it was too much.

“Coming…!!”

Like Kyouko didn’t know. She pulled her head back and used her fingers to stroke Sayaka lightly through the orgasm. Sayaka gasped, and it felt for moment like she’d never be able to catch her breath. When she did, eventually, a dull thought occurred: how was she going to be able to pay Kyouko back this time? The afterglow made it feel like her body was floating.

“That was hot,” Kyouko said. “You made a really good face.”

She was standing now with her hair down, and she’d dropped her own skirt and panties while Sayaka wasn’t paying attention. The tip of her tongue was poking out between her lips. She played with her own breast while she fingered herself.

“Let me,” Sayaka said, tugging against the chain again.

“Mm. Ahh, maybe later.” Kyouko closed one eye and grinned. “I left you all alone tonight with Tux.”

“That’s not fair. You were working.”

“Yeah, so? I do what I want.” She tilted her head. “Unless that was enough for you.”

In some ways, it had been. But Sayaka instinctively shook her head. It went so damn fast. Of course she wanted more.

“That’s what I thought,” Kyouko said.

Sayaka knew that, on Kyouko time, the night was still young. Four years ago, and still violently grappling with the horrors surrounding her existence as a magical girl, it would have seemed impossible for Sayaka to think that she might ever have too much of a good thing right in her grasp.


	5. Seeds

Homura Akemi was a ruthless fighter—and even beyond that, there was something unsettling about the way she handled herself against witches. Kyouko had spent some time tracking this one down, only for Homura to beat her to the punch. She was doing so much damage that the familiars completely ignored Kyouko, even as she watched the fight from a short distance away.

The way Homura moved while she fought was irregular. The way it seemed like she could predict what the witch would do, like exactly how and where it would attack—also irregular. The way that she almost appeared to teleport. The way that she could use a dozen different weapons, pulling them from some invisible stockpile mid-fight, switching between them effortlessly. The way that she looked bored while doing all of this.

There was no need for Kyouko to join the fight; it was over in minutes. The witch yowled as it was blown to pieces, and the labyrinth faded away while Homura collected the grief seed. She still looked bored. Kyouko folded her arms, and for the first time, Homura turned to acknowledged her. She approached Kyouko and held the grief seed between her thumb and her forefinger.

“Did you want this?” Homura asked, expressionless.

Kyouko lifted her chin. “It’s yours.”

“Then why did you stay to watch? Aren’t you busy?”

“Might as well take my time tonight,” Kyouko said.

Homura didn’t respond, and Kyouko narrowed her eyes. Homura had a faraway look now, but for half a second, Kyouko thought she might have seen a flicker of… something. Understanding, maybe. Kyouko studied her face until the other girl glanced away.

“What?” Homura said. After a beat, she looked towards Kyouko again and went on. “Don’t you normally hunt witches with Sayaka Miki?”

Kyouko smirked. “What’s it to you?”

Homura blinked, then she shrugged. “Nothing. You’re simply wasting your time with her.”

“That’s a weird thing to say.”

“Why?”

Kyouko took a few steps towards Homura and was suddenly very close. “Because Sayaka is fine. She’s going to be fine.”

Homura held her ground, and there was cold disbelief on her face. Kyouko sneered back, and she grabbed Homura by the collar. This girl could get her riled up in record time.

“What is wrong with you?!” Kyouko shouted. “You don’t know anything about her! Really. Are you jealous or something?!”

“You…”

Homura slapped down at Kyouko’s hand and held her by the wrist. Kyouko wrenched it away. She wanted to punch Homura, or smear her face against the pavement—badly—but she had to be smart. Even if she could beat Homura Akemi in a fight (she wasn’t sure she could) it would be a big waste of magic. And no one would be any better off for it.

“What about me?” Kyouko said, slowly. “Go ahead.”

“If you wanted to protect her,” Homura said, “you should have kept her from becoming a magical girl. She isn’t going to be fine. None of us will be.”

“Because we’ll become witches?”

Homura set her lips, and took a second or two to answer. “Because of Walpurgisnacht.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A witch that’s too strong for any of us to defeat. It’s going to come to this city in two weeks, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it from destroying everything.”

Kyouko stared at her, then shook her head. “Seriously? How do you know that?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“OK, I guess. So how _long_ have you known about it?”

Homura appeared to consider how to answer, or whether to. “Months.”

“That’s bullshit. You could have told me. You know the exact time it’s coming and you didn’t—”

“We can’t beat it. I was saving you the trouble of worrying.”

“Not gonna tell me how you know that, either?”

“I know,” Homura said, “because I fought it.”

“You couldn’t beat it, but you still survived,” Kyouko said.

“Yes.” Homura hesitated. “Another magical girl sacrificed herself to save me. I couldn’t land a single hit—not with any of my magic. I couldn’t even scratch it.”

Kyouko studied Homura again. If she was lying, she was doing a very, very good job with this story.

“If you’ve given up, then why are you even here?” Kyouko said. “Why bother collecting grief seeds? Why bother trying to keep Madoka from becoming one of us?”

“It’s actually none of your business.”

“So why are you telling me any of this? Seems like being aloof and mysterious is all you’re good at it.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Homura said.

Kyouko snorted. “Well, thanks, anyway. Me and Sayaka Miki will have to put our heads together. Maybe if you wanna help us we could come up with a plan.”

“It’s pointless.”

“Ugh, you know what’s pointless? Protecting Madoka from Kyuubey—assuming what you’re saying is true and we’re all gonna die.” Kyouko stopped to consider further. “You can’t run away with her, unless you take her whole family. Sayaka won’t run. We have to do something.”

“You don’t know anything about the situation.”

“I know more than I did,” Kyouko said. “You wanna know where Sayaka is? I made her have the night off. Madoka wanted to see a movie with her. They’re best friends, but you don’t care about Sayaka at all.”

Homura nodded.

“So what if you save Madoka, then? I don’t believe you’ve actually given up. I bet you think if we tried to help you with this Doomsday Witch that we’d just get in the way, or put Madoka in danger or something. You’re so damn full of yourself.”

“So what will you do, Kyouko Sakura?”

Kyouko laughed angrily. “What are _you_ gonna do? You’re awful. If I was Madoka, after hearing all that, I wouldn’t want to see your face again. I’d tell you to stop tryin’ to help me. I’d tell you to fuck off.”

“I don’t care.”

“Oh, right. She’d never say any of that stuff to your face, because it’s Madoka. But, you keep pulling this crap, and she might start believing it. Would you care then, if that’s what she really thought about you?”

Homura didn’t say anything.

“Think about it,” Kyouko said.

“I’ve heard enough.”

Kyouko raised her eyebrows. Without another sound, Homura turned and vanished.

 

It was very late by the time Kyouko returned to her room. She’d allowed herself to be waylaid by Homura Akemi, but she hadn’t wanted to end the night emptyhanded. Even though that was silly—recently she and Sayaka had gotten much better at witch-hunting as a pair, so they had a few grief seeds to spare. But Kyouko had also promised Sayaka that she’d be OK on her own. Better than OK, even; Kyouko had promised her a grief seed.

She had one now, but it was getting close to two in the morning. Kyouko felt too tired even for a late-night snack; she wanted to return to her hotel room and immediately flop into bed. Sticking to the plan would have been easy, but Kyouko noticed there was someone else in her room only once she’d stripped down to her underwear.

“Woah,” said Sayaka. She was sitting in a tall chair in the corner of the hotel room wearing what she must have worn to the movie: a light, casual sweater and capris.

Kyouko stopped to check out her legs, and Sayaka rolled her eyes. Kyouko grinned sleepily at her.

“You’re sneaky,” she said. “Want me to keep going?”

“Ha ha,” Sayaka said. “No, I’ve totally seen enough.”

“Think they say it’s better to leave somethin’ to the imagination, anyways.”

“Uh-huh. Like you would know anything about that.”

Kyouko yawned as she slid her sweatshirt back on, then she sat at the corner of the bed; that was as much as she felt like getting redressed, and Sayaka would have to deal with it. Kyouko could fire back at Sayaka for the jibe if she wanted—considering Sayaka was just as romantically inexperienced—but that was a sore subject. Kyouko knew better now, and she didn’t need to have the last word.

“It’s pretty late,” Kyouko said. She leaned back on the bed. “I didn’t think you’d be waitin’ for me.”

“I was having a tough time getting to sleep, anyway.”

“That been happening a lot?”

Sayaka shrugged. Again, Kyouko didn’t feel like pressing the issue. She showed Sayaka the grief seed instead, holding it out the same way Homura had earlier.

“Promise is a promise,” she said.

“I’m glad you got one.”

“Would’ve been quicker if I hadn’t run into your favorite transfer student.”

“Seriously?” Sayaka sat up a bit straighter. “She didn’t attack you, did she?”

Kyouko shook her head. “Actually… she kinda warned me about something.”

“What do you mean by ‘kind of’?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Kyouko said. “You know what it’s like talking to her. Anyways, she told me that in two weeks there’s gonna be a super powerful witch that’ll come to this city and destroy everything. She said we won’t be able to beat it.”

Sayaka was frowning. “You shouldn’t believe anything that crazy girl tells you.”

“I don’t know. What’s she get out of it, saying all that?”

“She gets to mess with you.”

Kyouko sat back up and put her hands behind her head contemplatively. “Maybe. She was saying some shitty things about you, too. And she noticed that we’re hunting witches together.”

“I don’t even want to know. If she knew what was good for her, she’d stop showing her face. It makes me pissed just seeing her.”

Several seconds passed while Kyouko continued to think. Sayaka tilted her head.

“Let’s just be hypothetical,” Kyouko said. “How could we beat a witch like that?”

Sayaka laughed. “How do we beat an unbeatable witch? That’s a tough one.”

“Shut up. I’m not gonna ask Kyuubey, alright? So, just… do you think it’s possible that a witch like that could exist?”

“Not really,” Sayaka said. “Obviously not every witch is the same, but one way or another, our magic has always worked on them.”

“Yeah, but what if we don’t have enough?” The words came out before Kyouko even considered their meaning or purpose. “You’ve seen…” She made a pained face and hesitated. “You know what happens when we use up all of our magic.”

“That’s why we’ve been trying as hard as we can for grief seeds. We have three extras with the one that you got tonight.”

Kyouko’s eyes widened. “What if,” she said slowly, “we got more? Like, a lot more. Just in case.”

Sayaka regarded Kyouko carefully for a moment. Kyouko couldn’t begin to guess what she was thinking.

“I mean,” Sayaka said eventually, “I guess it probably wouldn’t hurt. Maybe. You know, to be safe.”

Kyouko grinned. “And what’s the best way to get more? Think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

 

Kyouko was also a ruthless fighter, and she’d only gotten better since joining forces with Sayaka. The desperate, almost suicidal way she used to fight had been effective, but it was deeply flawed compared to her new approach. She was more careful now, and more deliberate. She was thoughtfully reactive, efficient and flexible. She relied on her strong muscle memory and her desire not to let Sayaka down.

The witch’s maze had the appearance of an old-fashioned library; the ceiling and the shelves seemed to rise up to infinity. There were ladders and spiral staircases leading to nowhere, and something like a fine dust hung in the air, omnipresent. The familiars were part bird and part book. They dropped from shelves as if influenced only by gravity, but they sprang open as they neared Kyouko, pages flapping like wings, with sharp talons dangling from the inside.

Kyouko managed to stay focused despite the fact that she was waiting for Homura to appear. There was only a loosely-defined border between the two halves of the city where Kyouko and Sayaka hunted, and where Homura hunted. Here, there was no doubt Kyouko was encroaching; hell, she probably wasn’t far from where Homura lived. Her spear felt light while she warded off the familiars.

“Last time, it seemed like you didn’t want to start a fight.”

Kyouko thrust her spear straight through the binding of a familiar, and it burst apart with a shriek. Then she turned and showed Homura her teeth.

“I’m not,” Kyouko said. “Only fighting with these guys. But you can take the rest if you want.”

“Sayaka Miki is here, too, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t really want to see you. Can’t say I blame her, ‘cause I didn’t really want to see you, either.”

“So why are you here?”

“Just to give you a message,” Kyouko said. She knocked another of the familiars down, then stomped it with the heel of her boot. “We need you to look out after the whole city once we’re gone.”

“You’re leaving?” Homura sniffed. “Running away?”

“I’m not betting everything on the fact that you might be full of shit. I’m taking this Walpurgisnacht thing seriously even if you don’t feel like it, yeah? So we’re going out of town to get as many grief seeds as we can. And we’re gonna use ‘em all on Walpurgisnacht.”

One of the familiars dived towards Homura, and she blasted it to shreds with a shotgun—one of the many weapons she could pull seemingly from thin air.

“Do you think you can collect them better that way?” Homura said. “It’s going to be dangerous. I let you share this city with me, but if you run into another magical girl…”

Kyouko hefted her spear over her shoulder and grinned. “Sharing with you is the problem. Every grief seed that you get is one that we don’t. And you’re pretty good at getting ‘em.”

“And? The other magical girls?”

“Heh, well… I might not be that good at makin’ friends, but I’m still better at it than you.”

“Do what you want,” Homura said. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

“Glad to hear it.” Kyouko’s smile remained, and she motioned up and outwards with her palm. “I’m gonna leave this to you. Not like I’ve got a lot of packing to do, but…”

When Homura had nothing else to say, Kyouko leaped off, heading back the way she came. None of the familiars gave chase; they had Homura to deal with now. At least it was reassuring, albeit in a strange way, to know that she would remain behind to keep watch over Mitakihara. She could be counted on, at the very least, to keep Madoka safe.


End file.
